Until I Die
by twilight-my-dreams
Summary: Impossible promises, pivotally misleading assumptions, crazy romantic twists... Anna and Dylan used to be inseparable, but will fate drag them apart forever?
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note: One of my first *short* stories... I hope you like it :) try to give some feedback? I'm not used to publishing my work and I'm really nervous about it.**_

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Deliberating her actions in secrecy was not something that 17-year-old Anna was accustomed to doing. Most things in her life seemed to happen excitingly spontaneously. She rather enjoyed spontaneity, choosing it over well-organised, detailed plans. She liked action, sports, and her friend since conception, Dylan. All 17 years of her life, Anna had glued herself to Dylan's side and spent every moment with him. Neither child had ever da any desire for "personal space" or any kind of privacy around each other. Their parents didn't seem to realize that even at twelve years old, the two were still taking baths together. Anna had never willingly separated herself from Dylan by a closed door on purpose. It had never bothered her that she couldn't have a moment alone. Until now.

Dylan busily swept his dirty clothes and old homework off the floor. He shook the two sleeping bags out of their storage sacks and unzipped them both. He then proceeded to attatch the zippers to each other in order to zip them both together. He had gotten fairly skillful with this task, though Anna usually did it instead (she had nimbler, less fumbly fingers). And it had been her invention in the first place. She used to get lonely when she was separated by him, even by something as trivial as a blanket. She always insisted on sleeping in the same bag. Having outgrown the ability to sleep together in the same one-person sleeping bag, they had to get creative. Finishing his task, Dylan stood up, straightened out their double bag on the king-sized mattress, and scooped up his dirty laundry. He opened the door to the bathroom without bothering to knock. A high-pitched, eardrum-butsting squeal errupted from the half-naked figure in the middle of the room. Dylan promptly dropped his laundry in surprise.

"You okay, there?" he asked, looking directly at her.  
"Not quite," Anna replied. She hastily threw a shirt over her head. It was one of Dylan's, but it didn't matter. "You didn't knock," she said stiffly.  
"Knock?" he had never knocked before. There wasn't anything he hadn't already seen.  
"Yes. What if I'd been... doing something personal?"  
"Personal."

She made an annoyed sound, snatched up all the dirty clothes that had been dropped on the floor and dumped them into the laundry basket. He'd seen it all before, though, and he couldn't think of anything personal she could have been doing that she wouldn't want him to know about. Everything was old news at this point.

Anna slipped brusquely past him and hurried out of the bathroom. She paused, and sighed at the sight of the large double sleeping bag in the middle of the floor. He'd already made it, so it would be quite rude to disassemble it. Plus, Dylan didn't seem to understand the problem. Of course, in his eyes, Anna wan't really a girl. She had boobs and a vagina, but she was just Anna Riley. And Dylan probably assumed that she felt the same way about him. She knew that sharing a decade and a half with someone created a special bond, but she felt that Dylan was even more to her than the best friend thing. She thought he was the only person she ever needed, ever wanted, ever loved. For as long as she could remember, she had only been able to keep one secret from him. He knew her monthly cycles, he knew her skipped homework, he knw she never showered on Tuesdays... but her didn't have the slightest clue that she loved him. Really loved him. Recently, she knew she had to put space between herself and Dylan if she ever wanted to get over the feelings she had. Every morning when she woke up curled around his body, or with his head on her stomach, gave her delightful butterflies. When she was changing, she could only hope that he would look over and suddenly remember she was a maturing girl, a pretty attractive girl at that.

Dylan stood in the doorjamb of the bathroom and gazed at the spritey girl curled up on the floor of his room ("his" room, like she didn't own half the things in their anyways). She must have realized his desire to touch her. He tried to be inconspicuous, but more and more often she edged away from him. Her cute little body amused him. She was average height and slender, but athletic. She seemed comfortable in her skin; sometimes he became jealous of her confidence. She slipped into the sleeping bag and curled up. Her pixie-like face looked adorably peaceful. He looked away to check his own appearance in the mirror. His hand hovered around the bottle of Axe on the counter, but he didn't touch it. She probably wouldn't even notice anyways.

Anna heard him move around the room for awhile. His steps were too hurried, his tracks around the room seemed pointless, a waste of time. His knees cracked like Rice Krispies every time he knelt down to pick up another stray pice of trash or crap on the floor. Eventually, she heard him come over to the top of the sleeping bag. Her muscles tensed as he slipped into their makeshift bed. He stayed a good distance away (as much as was possible in the small confinement) and absolutely silent for an immeasureably long time.

"Riles, you awake?" he whispered  
"Yeah," her voice came out meek and hesistant.  
Dylan winced in anticipation. "Do you still love me?"  
She smiled, a bittersweet smile. He would never know. "Yep."

He reached out to find her body. His searching hand landed on her waist. He rolled her over and tucked his own lanky limbs around her. She relaxed and tried to slow down the heart in her chest that was slamming painfully against her ribcage. Dylan's hands on her body was a normal occurrence, nothing to get worked up about. He always tended to use her as a teddy bear.

"You haven't outgrown my company yet?" he said, his breath blowing soft puffs of air onto her neck.  
"Nope"

They both lay still, close enough to feel each other's heartbeats and smell their favorite minty toothpaste on each other's breath. Neither could close their eyes for a moment. Dylan could feel the thought she wasn't saying through the rigidness of her body. Anna struggled with her exploding heart until she couldn't bear it any more. She saw her moment to get over her hopeless crush and face another opportunity.

"Elliott asked me out," she blurted, too loudly.  
Dylan was struck dumb. His digital watch beeped to signify 11:00. He shifted to remove himself from Anna's proximity. "What did you say to him?" he asked cautiously.  
Anna failed to detect the sadness in his voice. "I haven't given him a good answer. I said I had to go, but I would let him know if I was free this weekend."  
Dylan pursed his lips. "Do you like him?"  
"He's nice enough," she said, thinking that Elliott could never even compare to Dylan.

Dylan felt uneasy. Anna was too good for Elliott Shapiro. Anna had never had a boyfriend before. Just like he'd never had a girlfriend. If Anna started going out with some guy, Dylan would have to go out with some girl, right? They had to go through this together. Just like everything else.

"So... why wouldn't you?"  
"Because--" she struggled. She had hoped Dylan might claim her as his own and forbid her to go out with Elliott. "I don't know. If we went to the movies, would you come with me? I don't know what he expects to happen on a first date... what if I don't like him and..." she rolled over to crush herself against Dylan.  
"I won't go," he said firmly. He didn't really desire to see anything that might happen between Anna and Elliott. "Don't go past first base on your first date."  
She made a face. "Why would I ever want someone else to touch me? I don't even know him. I should say no."  
"No. Say yes," Dylan insisted, not believing that the lies he let out could possibly sound true. "It's time you had a life."  
She giggled half-heartedly. "Thanks."  
"If he hurts you, tell me. I'll fix him," Dylan said, the passion spilling out through his words. This wasn't a lie. His uncondicional love for his best friend wouldn't prevent her from experimenting, but he would protect her to the best of his ability. His arms fell around her.  
She looked up to see his face. "You would, wouldn't you."

He pressed his lips to hers. He didn't cout this as a kiss, technically speaking. He meant it to signify his agreement to her statement. The unbreakable vow, if you will. This not-strictly-speaking-kiss lasted only several seconds too long. He pulled back. Anna's body trembled, but she clung faithfully to his side.

From the moment he released her lips, she lost all train of thought whatsoever. They'd kissed before, under different circumstances, and it was always perfectly timed. Just when she needed it most, he had that reassuring touch. Most of their best memories occurred when they were along together. Every single thought in Anna's brain had to do with Dylan, and a hundred percent of her memories included him, usually standing right next to her through it all.

Their parents basically learned to accept the bond between the kids. At first, it was unhealthy. Anna refused to play at the park with anyone else but Dylan. Dylan never went to the grocery store with his parents without Anna. They threw the wildest tantrums if ever faced with separation. Dylan spent a month over summer vacation with his grandmother one year and tried to starve himself to death. Needless to say, next time Grandma asked for a visit from her grandson, she also got to meet Anna. Both sets of parents got into the habit of treating the kids like siblings. Anna's mom automatically bought a fourth plane ticket when planning a trip to Disney Land. Dylan's father even signed Anna's name on the family Christmas card. Routinely, they took turns sleeping over at each other's houses. Both had their own boxes of clothes at the other's place, and neither parent bothered to call and check where their child was. Anna called Dylan's parents mom and dad, too, and couldn't refer to anything as "his" or "mine."

Argueably, though, Dylan was the more attatched child, the bigger dependent in their relationship. He constantly peppered Anna with his problems, emptied his thoughts to her, and rambled nonsense for hours on end. Sensible Anna was more willing to try an all-girls camp one summer, but Dylan threw a fit and talked her out of it. Their lives were impossibly intertwined in a complex support system. Only Anna could bring herself to question how unusually tightly she was bonded to Dylan. Where they as indestructible as they seemed? In a sudden, fitful spasm, she pulled the body of the boy she loved even closer to herself.

At least they both tried to make other friends. Anna occasionally hung out with a sweet group of kids at lunch, and they seemed to accept Dylan's company as well. He only had friends through Anna. She was the cuter, friendlier, more innocent of the two, the more easily likeable. So it shouldn't have been a surprise to him that someone asked her out. Of course not. It was her reaction that surprised him. All their lives, they rid themself of dependency on other people. Some they grew out of, some they meticulously plucked away. It amazed him that now she wanted another boy to give her attention to. All in all, Dylan had no personal reasons to distrust Elliott, but he began to feel a fairly strong resentment towards the other boy. Anna wanted someone else. Maybe it was just a short phase, naturally occuring and unrevolutionary. He felt her arms tighten around him. He was the only person she would ever truly need. He would make sure of that.


	2. Chapter 2

Anna kicked Dylan's shin under the table. He gave her a quick, innocent look, then continued to glar at Elliott. Her patience was running out. This was supposed to be a little lunch date, solely between her and Elliott. Dylan, however, decided to tag along and kill any conversation remotely more personal than math class. She loved the fact that Dylan was looking out for her, except that she had hoped he would watch from afar. He seemed to have re-evaluated his statement from two nights ago about not following her on dates to keep Elliott in check. Didn't he realize he was more liekly to make a move in a dim movie theater than the middle of a crowded high school cafeteria? Perhaps Dylan needed a girlfriend to distract him.

Elliott occasionally glanced up at Anna, but for the most part remained positively fascinated with the plate full of peas on the tray in front of him. Anna glared at Dylan. There was not an ounce of romance around their small table, nor many positive feeling in general. Dylan took himself far too seriously at the moment; Anna experienced another odd sensation where the necessity of putting some breathing room between her and Dylan became clear again. Space for Elliott, space for a personal life, space for private emotions. Something jarred her conscience quite uncomfortably, which she reckoned to be the unnatural feeling of anger at Dylan.

Dylan could only pretend to ignore the increasingly hurt look coming from across the table. There was, in fact, nothing wrong with Elliott. He only felt so... incredibly unwilling to break his stance and turn Anna over to the other boy's care. He was supposed to be her significant other. Having lost his appetite, Dylan decided that enduring the emotions emmamating from Anna was worse than turning his back. He politely excused himself. His heart broke over and over with each step away from the table. Somehow, he felt as though the foreboding feeling in the air meant that his distance would be premanent. He wouldn't look back, though, afraid of what he might see.

The initial sensation of relif was soon drowned with anxiety and grief. Grief because Dylan was gone. Undoubtedly, that had been the worst fight between them ever, and she hated feeling like it was her fault all because she said yes to Elliott. The anxiety made her tense and embarrassed. Elliott looked up from his soggy, off-color green peas and gave her a beautiful smile. He seemed to release tension in his own shoulders, as he was no longer under intense supervision. His smile relaxed her, and she tried to look as pleasant as possible.

"I'm sorry about that," Anna began. Her voice shook a little and she blushed nervously. Elliott smiled again.  
"It's fine," he said honestly. "I admire how close you two are and I understand he wouldn't want to turn you over too easily. Friends like that are pretty rare."

His voice was pleasant and soothing, yet slightly huskier than Dylan's smoother croon. He had pretty green eyes, too, framed by long dark lashes (girly eyes, Anna thought humorously), and olive skin. He wore his dark hair slightly long and comfortably tussled. Dylan had dark brown eyes and surfer-blonde hair styled in a sweeping cut across his forehead. Dylan's face was rounder and paler than Elliott's which was more angular. Anna found both of their appearances quite pleasing. Elliott was closer to her size, whereas Dylan had four or six inches on her. The worst image that came to her mind was one of Dylan and Elliott getting in a fight. Dylan seemed much stronger, and Elliott also far too innocent.

"Thanks for understanding," Anna said finally, lamely.  
"I really like you, you know. I hope this doesn't start sounding like a broken record," he said, completely sincerely. "And... it's not really my business... but is, um... is Dylan the reason you've never had a boyfriend?"  
"No," Anna said too quickly, to defensively. "No, not directly. I kind of... he..." she stopped and made a face. Elliott waited patiently for some kind of answer. His eyes promised honesty and his partial smile, barely showing his pearly magnificent teeth, reassured her that he was trustworthy. "I've had a crush on him for my whole life."  
The other boy looked confused. "I don't get it. You always denied going out with him."  
"We never did 'go out,' technically speaking. We're friends. What's there to not get?"  
"Didn't you tell him? That you liked him, had a crush on him, I mean."  
"No. I never told him. We're just... friends," Anna stated sadly. Just friends wasn't right. Soul mates? BFFLs? Siblings? Something implying more permanency, impossible closeness... definitely not _just friends_.  
"Did you not realize he was madly in love with you? How can you keep a secret like that for so many years when you're never alone?"

Anna shook her head. This wasn't happening. Too many questions. Who was she kidding? She would never be able to survive a relationship with someone to whom she had to explain everything that had already happened in her life. Elliott had no idea who she was inside. He thought she was keeping secrets from Dylan because she couldn't trust him or something. Also he was clearly not, as Elliott said "madly in love" with her. He would have said something. Was there much else to gain in a _real_ relationship anyways? Would she become any closer to Dylan just by publicly declaring that she loved him? She stifled her annoyance at Elliott's childish ignorance and tried to be reasonable.

"I think it's all okay now. He'll find another girl, and I have you. There's no lost feelings."  
"No," Elliott disagreed. "Who the hell could ever replace you in his life? Him in yours? I don't even know you very well. I'm not going to try to assume his position."  
"We have time," Anna said. Time could fix everything, couldn't it?  
"Can I give you some advice?"  
Anna took three deep breaths. This was going downhill. The opposite way it was supposed to. She was supposed to be curing herself of Dylan and Elliott was definitely working against her. "Go ahead."  
"Talk to Dylan. Tell him about this little conversation, and don't neglect to mention that you really like... liked? him. I don't want to be the reason you two never speak again, so I want to be sure you're on solid ground with him before we start going out -- if you still want to. Okay?"

She nodded, debating the likelihood of actually doing as he suggested. He meant well, she supposed, but her relationship with Dylan was hardly something about which she needed advice from others. She felt a little bit overwhelmed and it dampened her mood significantly. There were plenty of other kids her age talking about the drugs they'd done and douchebags they'd given head to, yet she couldn't figure out how to kiss a guy. The ones she never spoke to probably assumed she was having sex with Dylan every night. True they slept in the same bed, but they always kept things at least PG13... mostly PG... She had to find Dylan soon. Sleeping in an empty bed tonight would sure depress her beyond measureably comprehension.

"This is also not my business," Elliott said suddenly, "but do you ever go to therapy, you know, a phsychiatrist?"  
Anna frowned. "No. Do I seem like the kind of person who would go to therapy? Do you get the implication that I need it?"  
"I go," he said, "and it helps me. And all I know is that if you're... never mind. It's nothing. Of course I have to go to therapy -- I'm adopted and my foster parents just divorced."  
Anna was taken by surprise. "That's really unfortunate."  
"My therapist's quite reasonable. Would you consider?"  
"I never once imagined going to therapy. My parents... and Dylan's parents, too, for that matter... don't believe in mental health practices."  
"I assume you could do a trial thing or something. It probably wouldn't cost too much." Elliott looked deeply concerned.  
"Maybe," she said, nodding in acceptance of that thought. He flashed a quick smile.

So he was adopted. That was interesting. She wanted to know more, although it seemed somewhat inappropriate to ask. She felt a good deal distant from this new boy, but they weren't necessarily strangers. She didn't know every odd habit about his daily routine/what songs he sang in the shower (or if he even sang in the shower to begin with... but who doesn't?). And then she wondered if any two _normal_ people could ever recite that kind of information about each other.

Anna couldn't think of anything to say. Elliott had a rough life. She began to second-guess whether it would be a good idea to continue pursuing a relationship with him. She couldn't imagine what Dylan would say when he found out that her relationship with Elliott lasted one lunch period. She set her eyes on the face across from her. It struck her heart to see him look slightly sad. Without realizing her actions, she placed a hand on his shoulder. His moss-colored eyes glanced up at her and melted all that was left of her heart. He took her hand from his shoulder and held it to his face.

"Are you committing to this?" he asked  
"Jumping in head first," she concluded. "Here goes nothing." She forced a smile. From the happiness on his face, it was clear he didn't know that her hot, melted heart had torn in half as she spoke those words. Dylan._ Oh, Dylan_, she wanted to shout. _I'm so sorry. I love you.  
_"What class do you have next?"  
Anna took her hand back and glanced at her watch. Perfect timing. "French," she replied, standing up.  
"I was going to offer to walk you there, but I'm afraid I'm going the wrong way. I'll talk to you later, though," he said. "Right?"  
"Of course. And thanks for putting up with Dylan during lunch. I'm really sorry."  
"It's not your fault."

They parted ways. Anna hurried to her French room so she could put her stuff down and have a chance to use the bathroom before class. The feeling grew more urgent as she quickened her pace. She dropped her bag down heavily on a dest and sped to the door, but halfway out the doorway she changed routes. There was another bathroom on the way to the nurse's office just a staircase farther away. Of course, Dylan had to be on that staircase. He said hello and started to ask a question, but she plowed by as if he hadn't been there at all. He shouted something at her, but she couldn't respond even it she had heard the question. Her insides writhed and she felt as though she were about to explode. She burst through the door of the girl's bathroom with tears streaking her flushed cheeks. All contents of her stomach errupted out of her mouth. She leaned helplessly over the edge of the toilet bowl, waiting for the second wave to come. As her mother used to say, "praying to the porcelain god."

Dylan turned on the stairs and hurried after her. He threw his backpack haphazardly onto the floor and charged into the bathroom without regard to the sign on the door that said "women." Anna looked awfully green and tired. Her body shook violently and heaved another helping of lunch into the toiet. He went to her side and pressed a hand to her forehead. She didn't seem to have a fever. Her pulse began to slow under the light pressure of his fingers, and her face began to resume a more normal pink. With some toilet paper, Dylan wiped her face carefully. He reached up to flush the vile contents of her stomach away. She groaned loudly and closed her eyes letting her face fall onto Dylan's chest.

"Think it's over?" He asked softly. His thumb wiped away an upcoming batch of tears.  
"No. For now... maybe. I'm..." she didn't finish.  
"I'm going to bring you to the nurse, okay? Just close you're eyes. You'll be okay."

His voice soothed her. He spoke softly with his lips barely brushing her ear. _This is how I want to die_, she thought vaguely. She figured a bomb could explode right next to her and it wouldn't phase her. The rythmic motion of his body pacified her into an unresponsive sleepy stupor. Her stomach made a series of unpleasant noises causing her to moan again.

"Food poisoning," she choked out. "I'm positive."  
"Shhh, babe. It'll be okay."

They got to the nurse's office to find it empty with a note on the door that shaid she was out to lunch. Dylan dropped Anna off at the bathroom inside the office while he proceeded to dress one of the cots for her. He filled a few cups with water to present to her when she staggered out of the bathroom. As she lay down, his hands worked their magic playing with her long hair, massaging her back, touching her face, and holding her body that she fell asleep within seconds.

"I love you," he proclaimed to her unconscious form.


End file.
